begun its broad sweep eastward toward Kalaman – they
would place the river as barrier between them and the
dragonarmies of the Red and Blue Wings.
“But don’t we allow them the chance to concentrate
their forces? We’ve labored long to avoid giving them the
opportunity until now,” ventured Sir Markham
perceptively.
Laurana frowned. Her face, in the play of the slowly fad
ing fire, took on again that look of age. Lines of strain
lingered in shadows around her cheeks and her eyes.
“We do,” she admitted. “My hope is that Ariakus and
Kitiara will see their quarry slipping back to the safety of
the High Clerist’s Tower and come after us in a hurry. If
the Red Wing reaches the river first, we can goad it into
crossing before the reserve army or the Blue Wing can
join up.”
“And if they don’t?” suggested Sir Patrick,
belligerently.
“You were right in the observation you made before,
Sir Patrick,” Laurana said, causing the knight to clamp his
mouth shut and blink his eyes in surprise. “The clouds
over the Dargaard Range hide our foes from us. If we
remain this far east, the entire assembled dragonarmy can
strike us before we have time to react. That’s why we need
the river.”
“Will we fly the troops across again?” asked Lord
Sword, with a worried look. “That was a slow process, and
we couldn’t expect to do it uninterrupted a second time.”
“We’ll have to,” Sir Caerscion noted. “There is a ford
in the bend of the River – Margaard Ford, I believe it’s
called – but it’s certain to be too dangerous to use at this
time of year. The current would carry an armored knight
and his warhorse away, not to mention the poor blighters
on foot.”
“It may be that we can use the ford. I won’t know until
tomorrow. I am weary, gentlemen. I bid you good night.”
Laurana turned away, and only Mellison saw the smile
that creased the general’s lips. By her remark about the
ford, it was obvious Laurana’s plan was already in her
mind, though she did not share it with anyone.
So the army once more broke camp before the dawn,
turning back toward the Vingaard. The mighty river, no
more than ten miles away, to the northwest, was swollen
by the spring melt. By the end of a single day of marching,
the entire army reached the bank – but even before then,
Laurana had embarked upon the next part of her plan.
As the army marched toward Margaard Ford, the Golden
General dispatched her” brass and bronze dragons to the
edge of the cloud bank, there to patrol and watch for signs
of the emerging dragonarmies. Meanwhile, Laurana,
mounted on her gold dragon, flew southward, toward the
tightest bottleneck of the Narrows. She took all of the
silver dragons with her, including the mighty Silvara with
her brother Gilthanas astride.
“We followed her without question,” Gilthanas
reported to his brother, Porthios, by letter. “By this time,
our faith in Laurana was absolute – even the gruff captains
of the knightly orders had begun to treat her with a
‘measure’ of respect!
“I have traveled along the bank of the Narrows, and
there can be no doubt as to the site Laurana selected for
the work of the silver dragons: gray walls of granite rise a
hundred feet on either side of the river, forcing the wide
Vingaard through a ravine merely two hundred feet wide.
In spring, the swollen river becomes an angry torrent,
cascading through a forest of boulders, its waters churned
into a chaotic maelstrom.
“Less than half a mile beyond, the gorge walls fall
away and the river returns to its wide, deceptively placid
flow. It remains thus tamed throughout its course to
Margaard Ford, some fifty miles to the north of the
Narrows. In the spring, at the time of the battle, the water
was at its highest, raging around the crests of the boulders
that dot the bed, roaring angrily against anything daring
enough to enter this channel.
“But the silver dragons entered, and they LANDED
on these boulders – fighting for purchase on the slick